


To Hear You

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Post War, Romance, The Quidditch Pitch: Eternity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-04-04
Updated: 2006-04-04
Packaged: 2018-10-27 11:19:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10807992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: Seamus became Dean's first connection in the wizarding world. What happens when Dean becomes Seamus' only connection to real world?





	To Hear You

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes: **Beta:** Much ♥ and thanks to the wonderful [](http://nefyr.livejournal.com/profile)[**nefyr**](http://nefyr.livejournal.com/)  


* * *

  
The first time Seamus smiled at Dean, Dean knew he’d lost.

It all started after Dean entered Seamus’ compartment on the Hogwarts express. All the other compartments had been full of kids laughing and yelling, and Dean wanted a bit of quiet. Growing up as an only child meant Dean wasn’t used to noise, and on top of that, it was his first time really being away from home and he was homesick already. So when Dean found a compartment halfway down the train occupied by a short, sandy haired boy looking out the window, he thought it would be perfect. The moment he’d shut the door and sat down Seamus had looked over at him, given him the most genuine smile he’d ever seen, and started talking. Seamus didn’t stop the entire train ride. In fact, the only time Seamus had stopped talking was when the sorting hat had been placed on his head. He talked through Dumbledore’s speech, and all through dinner. He talked all the way to the common room and the entire time they changed into their pajamas.

That night, as Dean got into bed and pulled up the covers. He fully expected Seamus to do the same. Dean learned much later that Seamus never did what people expected. Seconds after Dean’s head hit the pillow, Seamus was pulling open his hangings and climbing into his bed. Dean turned to face the lump of an Irish boy hogging all his covers, giving him a questioning look.

“Did you ever hear the story about the kid who got eaten by a one-headed bog monster?” Seamus asked.

Dean shook his head, bewildered by the question. Taking that as enough incentive, Seamus launched into another one his soon to be infamous stories. Dean fell asleep that night listening to Seamus’ heavy Irish accent lulling him to sleep.

After a week of the same behavior, Dean had begun to wonder if Seamus ever stopped talking, or if he ever ran out of things to say. It wasn’t until Dean’s second week at Hogwarts that he even realized he hadn’t felt even an inkling of homesickness since he met Seamus. He couldn’t even muster the feelings when he tried; not knowing that he had Seamus to look forward everyday.

It took years before Dean realized how much he would miss Seamus’ talking when it wasn’t there.

 

***~*~***

Dean rubs his face wearily as he glances back down at the occupant of the hospital bed. Short, sandy blonde hair falls listlessly across a small forehead. Eyelashes conceal closed eyes, hiding the most clear and beautiful blue eyes Dean has ever seen. Dean brings his fingers up reverently and gently traces soft lips as he imagines whispers and shouts falling from them. He imagines them doing all the things he’d only ever dreamed up and never dared to speak aloud. Things that may never come true now.

Five weeks. _Five whole weeks_ since Seamus was hit with a stray curse during a death eater raid and the Healers at St. Mungos are still no closer to figuring out how to reverse the effects. Dean is beginning to lose hope.

The next day, they tell him that Seamus is fine, physically fine anyways, but there is something keeping him from waking up. Unable to bear the silence since Seamus’ accident any longer, Dean begins talking to Seamus. He thinks that maybe, just maybe, he can pull Seamus back out the darkness.

He tells him about his day, and about all the morons at the ministry, about what he had for breakfast that morning, about the nosy nurses and the ugly paintings on the wall. After three straight days of talking Dean thinks he might have run out of things to say. He wasn’t sure how Seamus had managed to talk almost non-stop for the last ten years and never bore Dean with the same story twice.

Taking Seamus’ smaller hand in his own, Dean begins talking again, this time telling Seamus _real_ things. Things like the way he felt the first time they met, the way just the sound of Seamus’ voice makes Dean feel safe and calm. It is as if once he starts talking he can’t stop and suddenly Dean is telling Seamus everything. He tells him of the face that haunts his dreams every night and the smile he can never forget, about the tingling in his stomach when Seamus leaves the bathroom on nothing but a towel and the way he wants to mark ever inch of Seamus pale skin with his tongue.

By the time Dean is done talking he is sick of the sound of his own voice. He can desperately feel the loss of Seamus’ presence. The silence is almost deafening. He misses the sound of Seamus’ voice and the smile that never leaves his face, the way he has a story about everything and the way he can make a joke out of everything.

“Merlin, Seamus, please wake up. I miss you.”

“Dean?” The word is slurred and quiet, but the accent is unmistakable and Dean’s heart stops at the realization that it can only have come from Seamus’ mouth.

“Don’t talk, Seamus. You’ll strain your voice.” Dean knows its true, but it’s almost painful to say, because there is nothing he wants more than to hear Seamus’ voice.

“I heard you.”

“Heard me? When?” Dean asks hesitantly.

“Before, Dean. I heard everything.” Seamus’ eyes are drooping as he speaks, and he is struggling to stay awake.

“Rest Seamus, we can talk later.”

Seamus uses the last of his strength to scoot over, pulling the covers down.

“Tell me a story?” Seamus whispers.

Without hesitation Dean gets up and climbs into the bed. Laying down on his side, he pulls Seamus onto his chest. “I love you,” Dean whispers as he places an affectionate kiss on Seamus’ forehead. Dean knows, in that moment, that he will do anything in his power to never be without Seamus again.


End file.
